Continuing Tales

Dark Labyrinth

A Labyrinth Story
by Helen Fayle

Part 11 of 12

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Dark Labyrinth

Calion was running, running, through the tangled forest within the Labyrinth, the fire sprites closing in from all sides, screeching. With only one eye, his depth perception was skewed, and several times he'd had to swerve to avoid the trees, misjudging the distance.

He tripped, falling, arms flailing, and they were upon him, claws tearing at his skin…

He was chained in a cell beneath the castle, skin burning at the touch of iron…

Trapped in wolf form, unable to change, while a hawk tore first one eye out, then the other, sharp talons reaching in to his skull, tearing…

He awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright, in bed, in the room he'd taken for his own in the Goblin Castle. Outside, he could see through the window that dawn had broken. A rosy glow suffused the room. He lay back down, with a sigh of relief. Just nightmares, that was all. Nothing more. He ran a hand through sweat darkened fair hair, and winced in remembrance as his hand brushed the barely healed scarring on his face.

Some things weren't just a bad dream.

A loud knock at the door gave him his second start in as many minutes. 'Yes?' he snapped. The door opened to admit a hobgoblin.

'What do you want?' Calion was in no mood to be civil to the brutes.

'His Lordship wants the prisoner brought to the throne room, immediately.'

'Can't one of you - ' he sighed. 'Never mind.' If Iorweth had sent a hob to tell him to do it, it was Calion who'd have to obey.

Well that was something that might change…

'As soon as I'm dressed.' The hob just stood there. 'Tell him, I'll be there as soon a possible.' It bowed awkwardly and left. Calion got out of bed wearily. Stupid creatures. Worse than goblins at times. A moment of concentration, and he was dressed. Now to fetch that wretched human creature. Mortal born Fae… Calion snorted. Upstarts. Still, the Leannan numbers were so depleted, what option did they have but to fill their courts with Raised mortals, half bloods and their hangers-on? The Daoine, however, he thought proudly, had no need to go to such lengths to boost their numbers…

Maybe he could have a little more fun with the human on the way to the throne room? His spirits raised at the thought, he translocated to the dungeons.

The prisoner was still huddled in his corner, once fine dark fair now matted and dull. His head only moved slightly to look at his tormentor when he entered the cell, the spark gone from those once arrogant green eyes. Calion smiled. A pity he'd not had the time to break the Dreamweaver completely. Such is life… He knelt down at his side, careful to avoid soiling his clothes on the floor, and unlocked the chains. 'Iorweth wants you; I do believe your rescue party has arrived.'

…he was kneeling in the cell, and screaming as Devin stood, shaking the chains free from his wrists, staring up now at his former prisoner, as realisation struck.

'Game to me,' I think, said Devin coldly. From over Calion's shoulder, he heard a growl, and stared past his former tormentor. A hobgoblin filled the cell door, hefting a large axe. 'Shit.' There was no time to even cast a glamour, as the creature lumbered towards him. Fortunately, it left enough room for him to slip past as it attacked, and he darted into the corridor, knocked a second hob flying, and ran as fast as he could on unsteady legs, hoping he remembered the layout of this part of the castle from when he'd been brought here. Behind him, he heard Calion bellowing orders at the hobs, and smiled grimly. A pity he'd not had time to finish the bastard off, but if he could just get to the armoury…

He rounded a corner and swore in frustration. He'd taken the wrong direction. The only stairs led downwards. 'Beggars can't be choosers,' he said aloud. Maybe the stair led somewhere that would get him out of here. The castle was a maze in its own right, you could never tell. Besides, he could hear Calion and the hobs catching up. He ran on, and down.


Sarah stared at the wall that stood between them and the castle. 'It's real enough. How are you going to get through it?'

Jareth conjured an orb and hefted it in his hand, contemplating the wall. 'Brute force. Stand back.' Sarah, Hoggle, and the goblins moved back as he wound up for the throw, and then hurled the globe at the wall...

…which exploded, showering them with debris and dust.. Sarah yelped as her shoulder was hit, fortunately only by a small piece. Jareth stood in the open, completely untouched, as if daring any of it to hit him. When the dust settled, she coughed, and stared at him.

'Not exactly subtle,' she said quietly, brushing dust off her shirt. Nothing had landed on him - not, she thought, that you'd notice; he like the rest of them, still looked the worse for wear after the forest and the attack in the tombs.

He stared grimly at the doors of the castle, which now lay before them, unhindered. 'It wasn't supposed to be.' He took her hand. 'Stay close, and stay watchful.' Hand in hand, they walked up the steps to the castle door, Hoggle and the goblins trailing behind.


Devin stumbled down the last two steps in the dark as the distant rumble of an explosion reached his ears. Underfoot, the ground had shifted slightly, as if responding to whatever had happened. Jareth… it had to be. Never could make a quiet entrance.

Well, there had been that time

Footsteps on the stairs above him.

Devin moved down the corridor in front of him, feeling his way along the walls in the dark. His fingers sank into a patch of eye lichen, which hissed angrily at him, and he pulled his hand away with a whispered apology. Muttering softly it subsided.

It only flourishes where there's light, Devin remembered. So this should be an area that is normally lit. Which means I'm in the occupied area of the castle cellars, with any luck. He didn't dare conjure a light to see by, even a faint one. Calion and the hobs with him were under no such restriction however. If he couldn't find a way out of here, they'd find him.

His hand encountered space suddenly. A side passage, and he ducked into it. Any choice being better than none. It turned out to be the right choice. Spying a light up ahead, he approached cautiously. Rounding a bend in the passage, he peered into the cellar that had been converted, several years ago now, into the goblin brewery.

Currently occupied by several dozen drunken goblins, who were busy helping themselves to the barrels stacked up against one wall. The other wall now had a gaping hole in it, presumably leading back to the city.

The goblins looked up as he entered, some going straight back to drinking, but one at least he recognised, and recognised him.

'Brunt!' Devin grabbed the gangly goblin with one hand.

'Urk.' It peered at him blearily. 'M'Lord,' it said eventually, looking nervous.

'I've got a Fae lord and two hobgoblins heading in this direction - do you think any of you would fancy lunch?' Several goblins turned their attention back to Devin as he spoke, a gleam in their beady eyes. The bald goblin he was holding nodded.

'We'll get 'em, m'lord. Leave it to us, right lads?' There was a slightly drunken chorus of 'ayes' from the assembled goblins. Devin winced. At times like this, he began to understand all too well why Jareth had become such a cynic. Oh well, you make do with what you can get.

From behind, he could just make out the sound of nailed boots. His pursuers were drawing closer.

'Now would be a good time?' Devin suggested. Almost as one, the goblins surged towards the passage, with the exception of a few who were a little too far gone to move. With a sigh, Devin grabbed a torch from the wall and looked around for the door that led back up into the castle.


The castle doors swung open easily at Jareth's touch, but he hung back, not entering straight away. Sarah, beside him, scanned the hall ahead of them for herself, but could see nothing untoward.

Which was perhaps the most unnerving thing. No guards, no visible magical traps or illusions.

'It's too easy,' Sarah said quietly. Behind her, Hoggle mumbled an agreement.

'Maybe. Jareth scanned the hall ahead of them again. 'Then again, maybe that's what he wants me to think.' He stepped through the doors.

Nothing happened. He let out the breath he'd been holding as Sarah did the same. Sarah joined him, and they stood side by side in the hallway, that she'd last seen at the end of her own quest.

Last time, she'd run headlong into this place, heedless of any danger that might threaten. A good job it was Jareth in charge then, not Iorweth, or I'd have been dead…

Not that she'd felt that way at the time…

Now, they advanced carefully, Jareth checking almost every inch of wall, floor and ceiling before proceeding. The tension building up was almost intolerable. Even the goblins had lapsed into a subdued muttering, Mags playing nervously with Fleck's tail and Zuse chewing a pigtail. Whisper just looked like a quivering ball of fur.

They rounded a final corner, turning into a passageway ending in the worn stone steps that led up to the throne room. Placed in the middle of a step, half way up, was a chess piece.

A White King, broken in half.

'Rather crude,' Jareth commented dryly.

Before he could prevent it, Whisper scampered forwards and grabbed the piece, chittering away unintelligibly as he held it in one furry paw.

There was a bright flash, and Sarah coughed as an acrid smoke wafted towards them, breifly obscuring her vision. When it cleared, there was nothing left of Whisper except a small dark stain on the stair.

'Oh!' She couldn't help the cry that escaped her.

Jareth's face was set in a stony, impenetrable expression. Hoggle, behind them, sounded as if he was going to be sick again.

At which point all hell broke loose, as four hobgoblins charged down the stairs towards them.


Devin finally found the door he was looking for, and heaved it open.

'Wouldn't do to oil the hinges occasionally, Jareth?' he muttered under his breath, wincing as the heavy oak door groaned on corroded hinges. Distantly, he could hear the sounds of the goblins fighting behind him. 'Nice to know they come in useful sometimes…'

The door opened towards him, revealing a well-worn stairwell. Devin leaned weakly against the wall before proceeding. The last day had drained him more than he cared to think. If Jareth did need help, he'd be hard pressed to give it.

Don't think about it, he'll be fine. He's Jareth.

Devin sighed. That was what frightened him the most.

Vain, proud, stubborn, acts before he thinks… and far too used to getting his own way of late.

And too long out of practice with the Higher Courts and their denizens.

And then there's Sarah…

Devin began the long climb, treading carefully in the dim light: the stairs were worn and narrow, making the footing treacherous.

He loves her, and Iorweth will use that.

Maybe it would be enough to keep her out of harm's way, if he could. Hopefully the goblins would have dealt with Calion and the hobs by now. One less problem to worry about.

The wolf landed on him from behind, snarling, sending him crashing face down onto the stairs. A sickening crack and a stab of pain as the arm he put out to break his fall broke. Claws raked his back, hot breath on his neck, teeth trying to tear his throat…

Devin rolled over quickly, shaking the beast off, raising his good arm to fend the creature off. Calion

The wolf lord's claws skittered on stone, scrabbling for purchase and failing. The wolf fell back down the stairwell, yelping in pain as it landed at the foot, before springing to its paws, snarling and springing forward and upwards again. Unarmed, his left arm dangling at his side uselessly; all Devin could do was try to fend it away. Within seconds he was bitten and clawed. Blood ran down his back from Calion's initial attack, and his shirt front and right arm soon bore testament to the wolf-lord's onslaught.

One armed, he couldn't even shapechange…

A lucky blow sent the wolf reeling, slamming its head into the side of the stairwell. Devin tried to follow up his advantage, but slipped, landing badly and slipping down several stairs, catching his left arm. He bit back a scream, fighting back a wave of nausea. If he'd only got one weapon, or even a better grasp of physical magic…

Or maybe one chance. But if he landed badly…

The next time the wolf attacked, Devin reached out, grabbing it by the neck with his good arm, holding tight, ignoring the pain as it sank sharp teeth into his shoulder, tearing.

Then taking a deep breath and hoping he was doing the right thing, he threw himself down the stairs, clinging onto the wolf with every ounce of his fading strength.

Taken by surprise, Jareth had no time to prepare: the first of the hobgoblins reached them and attacked. Sarah, dodging her own attackers, saw him avoid the descending blow of the hob's axe, but grace and speed would not get him out of this one. The hallway was too narrow, there was nowhere for him to move.

She had no further time to think, as a hob grabbed her, hauling her up the stairs. The other two attacked the goblins, who were scurrying back towards the castle doors. Struggling was useless, the creature had her held in a vice like grip: even when she fell on the stairs, it just carried on walking, dragging her. She couldn't bite back a cry as her arm was wrenched painfully. Jareth, still hard pressed by his attacker, couldn't help.

It was Hoggle who attacked, running after her abductor, kicking and biting it, trying to get it to let her go.

And with heartbreaking ease, it swatted the dwarf away with its free hand, sending him tumbling back down the stairs, to land in a heap at the bottom, just as Jareth finally dealt with his assailant. Still struggling, she saw the other two return, one with Fleck's tail wrapped in a choke hold around its neck, the small goblin sitting on its head and trying to gouge its eyes out with long clawed fingers.

Then she was pulled around the corner and lost sight of them.


For what felt like an age, Devin lay at the foot of the stairs, afraid to move. The weight of the wolf held his legs down, until he finally pulled himself out from under the broken body of the creature - Calion. Shaking, he pulled himself painfully over to the bottom step, and sat down again, cradling his broken arm.

Where are those bloody goblins when you need them?

No matter. He could cope.

Laboured breathing in addition to his own reached his ears.

Surely not..?

He stared at the body of the beast that lay limply in the dim pool of light cast from somewhere above them. The one remaining eye stared back at him, clouding over, but still with a spark of life left. As he watched, the creature twitched, front paws scrabbling feebly at the stone, but to no avail.

The back didn't move at all.


And it changed, shimmering into the form of the Fae lord, battered, bloodied and torn - who now looked up at his former captive.

'Mercy…' Calion pleaded, holding out a hand to Devin. Who laughed.

'Maybe when I get back with a sharp knife,' he said. Standing up, he simply turned his back on Calion, and walked slowly up the stairs, ignoring first the pleas, then the screams.

Maybe with a bit of luck the goblins wouldn't be too drunk to finish the poor fool off before he got back…

Iorweth didn't bother to get up out of the throne when Sarah was dragged before him. Lounging insolently in a parody of Jareth's studied elegance, he eyed Sarah with a feral air.

'So good of you to join us, my dear,' he said quietly.

'Not by choice.' She tried to pull free of her captor, but the hob held her too tightly.

'Now now, my hospitality might not be to your taste, but rest assured, you won't have to endure it for long.' He gestured to the creature holding her. 'Take her over there, hold her firmly. I don't want her wandering off.'

The hob dragged her over to the side of the pit that filled the centre of the room, and held her firmly by both arms, standing behind her. Iorweth calmly reached down beside the throne and picked something up: a small crossbow.

'I had planned on something a little more esoteric for your lover for our endgame, but then I decided on something a little more - personal, shall we say?' From beside the place where the crossbow had lain, he picked up a quarrel, holding it very carefully in one gloved hand by the shaft, not touching the point. 'Iron. Enough to kill, if it hit somewhere vital.'

'For a Fae.'

Jareth's voice. Sarah almost sagged with relief.

Ignoring him, Iorweth fitted the bolt into place and spanned the crossbow. 'As you say. But it would still do a lot of damage to a mortal. Especially,' and here he took aim at Sarah, lowering the crossbow until it was sighted on her. 'If it was aimed at her heart.'

Jareth walked slowly into the room, moving into Sarah's field of vision.

'Ah-ah.' Iorweth shook his head. 'Not too close, and don't even think of conjuring. I can have this in her before you can move. Which leaves you with a dilemma, Jareth.' His smile, so cold, chilled Sarah to the bone. 'You can risk taking me - or you can try to save her yourself directly. You might be quick enough.' A pause for dramatic effect. 'Then again, you might not.'

And with that, he fired.

Time, she'd heard, could stand still in times of peril. As if in slow motion, she saw the bolt speeding towards her, aimed unerringly at her heart.

At the same time, she saw Jareth, knowing that there was no way he could be quick enough to conjure anything to deflect the bolt, take the only option he could.

And as if from a long distance, she heard her own voice screaming as he fell, the bolt lodged in his shoulder, to collapse in a heap at her feet.

And an anguished cry from Devin as he bounded up the stairs and emerged from a side passage, staring down at the frozen tableau in front of him.


Time unfroze.

Sarah pulled free from the hobgoblin holding her, and dropped to her knees beside Jareth, heedless of the blood that pooled on the floor. Very little stained the front of his shirt - the crossbow bolt stuck out of his shoulder at an angle. His breathing was so shallow, for one moment she feared the he was dead, until his hand moved slowly, painfully, to clasp hers.

'Don't move,' she whispered. Faintly, she heard Iorweth stand, laughing harshly.

'How quaint. So moving, don't you think, Dreamweaver?' Devin didn't answer.

Sarah brushed Jareth's hair back from his face. So pale.

Iron. Deadly to faery. She bit back a sob, and his fingers closed over hers.

'Broken - under me…' he whispered, so quietly she barely made out the words. She started to ask him what he meant, but his fingers squeezed hers. 'Bolt…'

Carefully, hoping she understood him, she slid her hand under his shoulder, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she felt around, trying not to move him, or to give anything away. Iorweth was staring, she could feel it, but caught up in his enjoyment of the scene, paying little attention to her.

She hoped.

Her fingers closed on the tip of the bolt, slippery with Jareth's blood. It must have gone straight through… she prayed that meant it hadn't done enough damage to kill him.

In the legends, the touch of it was enough. Devin knelt beside her, having made his way over to her side, unmolested. 'How is he?'

'He's alive,' Sarah whispered. Devin, she saw, looked much the worse for wear. One arm hung loosely at his side, held awkwardly, and he was badly bruised. Quietly, Devin leant forward to examine Jareth's wound.

'Still breathing is he?' Iorweth leaned over them. 'Such a pity. Still, at least he'll be able to watch you both die before I kill him.' He sighed. 'I had been hoping you'd be far more entertaining, Jareth. '

'You sick bastard.' Sarah, heedless of Devin's warning look, stood up and faced the Sidhe lord. 'Is this the only thing that amuses you? To torture, maim and kill for fun?'

Iorweth stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. 'Actually, yes. Although I'm more than willing to add rape to the list in your case, dear child.'

'Words.' She sneered, taking a step towards him. 'Words and illusions, backed up by just enough real magic to make an impression. You don't scare me, Iorweth.' She held her head up, as proudly as she could, drawing herself up to her full height.

Funny, in the woods, was it only two weeks ago? This had seemed easier. But she had to get closer…

'Don't I?' Iorweth smiled at her, a supercilious sneer. A broad sweeping gesture with one hand and the black bladed sword she remembered from her first dream appeared in it, then, as he released his grip on it, floated freely in front of him. 'I could send this blade through his neck in a heartbeat. Does that frighten you?'

'You could have done that at anytime, so why didn't you?' She forced her voice to challenge him. Oh Mom, if you knew what I'm having to use all those drama lessons for…

Understanding, watching him in front of her…

'You can't, can you? All you can do is force him to injure himself?' Her eyes blazed in sudden triumph. 'You have no power over him except that which he gives you… that's why the games. That's why any of you play your games. Why you needed Devin or me as bait, to force him to come to you!'

He flinched, then. Or was it her imagination?

Hadn't she been here before?

Except he was still in control of the Labyrinth, and behind her, Jareth lay dying. No. Hurt. Please, just hurt. Not dying. Not because of me…

'You can't stop this, Sarah. Not now.' Another gesture: the sword remained, but the broken white chess piece appeared in his gloved hand. 'White, I think you'll find, resigns.' He turned his hand over and dropped it to the floor. 'I win.'

She threw the iron tipped bolt then, with all of her strength, willing it to stay straight and true.

Iorweth screamed as it hit, buried in the fleshy part of his neck. The sword clattered to the floor.

And the ground heaved.

Sarah stumbled, grazing her hands as she broke her fall. Around her, masonry crumbled and crashed to the floor.

And a part of her twisted inside as she felt the Labyrinth rebel, at this first chance for freedom from the compulsion it had been under. In front of her, Iorweth dropped to his knees, fighting to maintain control. Behind him, the lone hobgoblin in the room wailed and fell silent as a large block fell from the ceiling and crushed it.

Iorweth was losing. His hand reached out, fumbling for the hilt of the sword. Around them, the rumbling sound and the bucking of the land as the valley warred with the Fae lord increased. Wind rushed through the room, pushing Sarah down, blinding her.

Fighting it, she managed to stare at Iorweth, who tore the bolt from his neck and lunged towards her -

- and toppled backwards, slumping to the floor, blood pouring from the stump of his neck as his head rolled into the pit. Sarah stared blankly up at Devin, who let the black sword drop from his hand, and fell to his knees at her side, exhausted.

'Well I'm not under any compulsion not to take anyone's bloody head off,' he said with a defiant grin. Shaking with relief she hugged him, then made her way unsteadily to where Jareth lay, so pale, so still, in the wreckage of the throne room.

As she reached him, the wind, and the land's rebellious heaving, stopped, and she knelt beside him, her hand reaching out tentatively to check for a pulse in his neck.

Faint, but there. If barely.

Devin knelt beside them again. 'Constitution of a bloody hobgoblin, I don't know how he does it,' he quipped weakly. 'Which reminds me. Sarah, you'd better organise those blasted goblins.'

'But - '

Devin laid a hand on her arm. 'You can't help him, and I'm not sure I can. But I can try. In the meantime, you're the only one they're likely to listen to.'

Ignoring him, she laid a trembling hand on Jareth's cheek. Inside, she felt numb. Could it come this far, to finish here?

'Sarah!' Devin's sharp tone brought her back to the present. 'Please,' he continued softly. 'It's not safe while the hobs are still out there. I promise you, I'll do all I can.'

Goblins were arriving in the throne room, looking battered, shaken and in some cases, a little bloodshot. Trembling, she stood, then took a deep breath.

'You, you and you,' she pointed to three of the biggest. 'Help Lord Devin with the king. The rest of you…' How hard could this be…? 'I want every hobgoblin cleared out of the city and the Labyrinth by nightfall, or I'll tip the lot of you headfirst into the Bog.' She grabbed two goblins in passing. 'You two come with me.'

Walking out of the throne room without looking back was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

A role… it's just a part…

Then why do I feel like I'm dying inside?

Just let him live…

She found Hoggle in the hallway, limping groggily towards the throne room. Maybe there wasn't time, but she made it anyway. She knelt down until they were eye to eye, then hugged him. 'Thank you,' she said quietly.

'Where's Jareth?' he asked.

She almost lost it then, but forced back the tears. Later. Much later

'Devin's with him. He's…' She choked at that point, despite her best resolve. He patted her hand comfortingly. For her, she knew. She didn't expect him to care about his king, somehow. For now, it didn't matter. 'I'm going to the city. I might need some help?' If she focused on the task at hand, it made it easier, somehow.

'Need a hand with those goblins, eh?' he asked gruffly. She nodded. 'Well why didn't you say so!'

Forced good humour, but it helped. A little.

Just a little.


She sat on the window ledge that overlooked the Goblin City, one leg drawn up underneath her, her elbow resting on the other knee, chin resting on her hand. Faint lights from the city were the only lights in the dark night; the moon would be a few days yet before appearing.

The hobgoblins were gone, finally. Dead or lost and scattered in the Labyrinth. Without their lord, no immediate threat.

Calion's body hadn't been found. One more worry.

At least, she thought, she'd been able to keep some of the goblins sober enough to stand guard. The rest were now snoring in various nooks and crannies around the castle.

And now all she could do was wait. Devin had been closeted with Jareth all day and most of the night. Part of her said that this had to be a good sign… the other part worried itself sick.

Maybe she should try to get some sleep, but somehow, she couldn't. Not yet. There had to be news sometime, surely? Devin wouldn't keep her waiting forever…

She blinked back sudden tears, and wiped them away angrily. She wouldn't yield. Not now. She'd come too far and been through too much for that. Instead, she stared out into the darkness, wondering how far away dawn was.

The clock in the throne room began to chime, and she counted off the chimes to herself:





'Through dangers untold, and hardships un-numbered,' said a voice behind her suddenly. Startled, she almost fell off the windowsill (fortunately inwards) to be caught in familiar arms. Jareth: pale, weak, but alive. With a wordless cry she threw her arms around him, letting the tears fall unheeded as he held her close.

'Told you,' said Devin from behind them. 'Constitution of a hobgoblin. Bloody good job too.'

Sarah looked up and smiled at him. 'Thank you.'

Jareth sagged, and she helped him sit down on the ledge.

'He shouldn't be up,' Devin said, before Jareth could speak. 'But would he listen?' He sighed. 'Ungrateful bastard. Had the nerve to complain about me using his stock of healing spells. I told him you'd throw me in the Bog if I let him die, but for some reason…'

'Devin,' Jareth said wearily, but with a flicker of his old humour, 'do shut up.'

Devin winked at Sarah, and she hid a smile. 'You're still hurt,' she pointed out. He shrugged.

'Broken. It'll heal. I thought you'd rather have his royal high and mightyness there back in one piece.' He sighed. 'Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get some sleep. I suggest you two do the same. Especially,' he turned to Jareth, 'you. You're not invincible.'

After he'd left, Jareth, with Sarah's help, stood. 'He has a point. You're exhausted,' he told her.

And you're not…?

'I'd prefer a bath first,' she said quietly. He placed an arm around her waist, and she returned the gesture, leaning into his embrace.

'That can be arranged. Assuming the plumbing still works. What on earth did you do to my castle?'

She managed a laugh. 'Brought the house down.' She grinned at him. 'Piece of cake really.'

He laughed then, wincing a little as his wound pulled with the movement. A heartbeat later, Sarah joined him, and they made their way back along the passageway, disturbing one of the goblins sleeping in a niche along the corridor - but only for a moment. Turning over, Fleck wrapped his tail over his nose and went back to sleep.

Dark Labyrinth

A Labyrinth Story
by Helen Fayle

Part 11 of 12

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